


What You Made Me

by Origami_Roses



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Dark!Tony, Other, Tony Stark Does What He Wants, dark crackfic, not team Cap friendly
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-27
Updated: 2020-07-31
Packaged: 2021-03-01 18:14:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 12,685
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23631427
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Origami_Roses/pseuds/Origami_Roses
Summary: The problem with a self-fulfilling prophecy is that it tends to come true.Canon events through the end of CW are pretty much as happened - objectively; subjectively, however... Let's just say Tony is less guilt-strickenly desperate for approval.
Comments: 101
Kudos: 195
Collections: Marvel





	1. What You Made Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unreliable Narrator alert. Tony is looking through a glass darkly, and his interpretation of people's motives and actions may not match theirs (or yours, dear reader). 
> 
> (Also, I'm too lazy to go back and watch all the movies to double check the briefly referenced conversational habits, but I'm folding any misremembering into the Unreliable Narrator excuse, so...)

Lights flickered as the Helicarrier's systems rerouted power to the engines. Natasha Romanov head swam with dizziness and she rolled her eyes, trying to see what was going on around the semi-crystalline mass immobilizing her head and body, pinning her to a wall. Too-still bodies of a few Agents lay just within her range of sight, and the low cursing somewhere to her left told her Director Fury was alive, awake, and probably in the same predicament she was. A single set of heavy footsteps punctuated with pauses and periodic thuds echoed down the corridor behind her, but she knew that could be covering the sound of any number of other, lighter-footed hostiles approaching. She wished she could see what was happening. Information was valuable, and at least she'd know who they were facing, if not able to do anything, yet. She was sure that, given some time, she could get out of this... whatever it was.

"STARK! What the hell is go~" Fury's voice cut off abruptly. A quiet murmur of "There, there Pirate, just hang tight. This will be over before you know it." followed by muffled gagging sounds and a faint hiss and whine, as the area behind her was briefly illuminated. 

The footsteps continued and a familiar voice said "Hey, baby girl, you got navigation covered?" She couldn't hear the reply, presumably he was on a headset. "Glad to hear it. What's our ETA?" Another pause, and another thud. "Excellent. That will give me time to get all this set up. Keep me posted." The wall near her head vibrated as something was heavily thumped against it. The Iron Man suit stepped into her peripheral vision with one hand raised, apparently examining the wall across from her.

"Stark, what do you think you're doing? Where are we going?"

Her erstwhile teammate turned to face her, impassive in the suit. She hated not being able to read his face, his little tells. "Hmmm? Before I answer that, perhaps you'd explain something to me? Rogers" _{and oh, the venom behind that name shocked her. After Leipzig, she'd known Stark would be upset, but this went beyond what she'd have expected.}_ "was always 'Steve' to you. Barton is always Clint - but you have a history so, whatever. The Red Bitch is always 'Wanda'... but the only time I'm 'Tony' is when you're trying to talk me into doing you a favor. Mind explaining why that is?" Wanda's name had been spoken with distaste (but then, he'd never really warmed up to her), but the rest of his words were bland and almost... playful?

He waited expectantly for her to reply. "You're attacking us because I use your last name? That's even more petty than I'd have expected from you."

"tsk, tsk, tsk", he tutted, turning back to what he was doing. "Wrong answer little spy. The name thing is a symptom of the reason I'm finally dealing with this mess. And we're heading to Wakanda. I'm finishing cleaning up after you rats this one last time before going to pick up some fugitives. I have 1537 reasons to get SHIELD out of my life, and a certain team in particular only managed to get on my last nerve and show me the truth. Three attempts on my life, 352 bugs and other surveillance devices planted - and that's not counting your little stint as Ms. Rushman. Not to mention 156 anti-surveillance devices - had they been confined to your private quarters, I'd have overlooked them and just assumed you value your privacy, but noooo~, you just had to litter them all over MY private quarters, office building, and server rooms. Not that they ever really worked, but it makes me wonder what you were looking for, what you were trying to steal that you couldn't get in your 1026 attempts at hacking my systems. And those aren't even the worst of your crimes. You just had to go after my kids, too." 

She couldn't help but scoff. "Kids? You may be an inveterate playboy, but everyone knows you've never been a family man."

The armor stopped in front of the door opposite and ahead of her, and Stark stepped out. "Sentry mode, enable instant kill for any perceived hostiles." The suit closed back up and immediately sprouted several weapons. He tapped his chest as he turned to her and within seconds, a liquid she'd never before seen seeped across his skin, forming a sleek new armor, minus gauntlets and a faceplate on the helmet, leaving his face exposed. He smirked and pulled a small device and a handful of wires from a bag she hadn't seen on the floor. 

"Can't be too careful in this den of thieves. As far as not being a 'family man'... of course that's how you'd see it. How can I explain...?" He paused as if in thought, as he began attaching the wires to the security system on the door.

"Had Barton's dog been hit by a car, you'd have tried to comfort him, given him what space you could while he came to terms with that loss or at least have respected his grief. But when Ultron tore JARVIS to shreds, that is exactly what you did to me as well - tore me apart as though I wasn't already bleeding. You acted as though just because there wasn't a physical body for me to hold in my arms and sob over, my feelings must be either fake or worthless. Hell, you'd have had more sympathy over a dead parakeet than me losing my best friend, my guide, ...my son." 

Feeling vaguely nauseous, she realized he was right. They would have been more sympathetic to him had he been cradling a dead bird in his hands than they ever were over one of his most complex creations being destroyed. But who cared? It was just a machine - just lines of code. It could be repaired and replaced, so it wasn't like it was really a big deal. _'Liar'_ her mind hissed at her. _'It managed his schedule and logistics. That cannot be quickly or easily replaced. He put who knows how many tens of hours of his time and effort into building, maintaining and upgrading it. Time that cannot be regained. He cared.'_ Try as she might to silence that traitorous whisper, the look on Stark's face told her it was, indeed, a big deal and she was forced to admit that maybe his feelings did matter. The whispers remained unsilenced, and she regretted her earlier flippancy.

"You're close with Barton's family, right?" he continued. "Godmother to his children? What would you do if someone was stalking little Lila Barton? If they drugged her and held her captive? If you found someone pinning her against a wall, molesting her? How would you deal with someone who violated one of your god children?" Almost instinctively she bit back a growl at the thought. She'd murder the bastard who dared... 

He paused at the sound, turning from the door to look at her and the utter hatred he in his eyes was chilling. "Exactly. Aside from the attempts at hacking my company servers, SHIELD made 873 attempts to hack JARVIS - Fury himself drugged his drink, so to speak - and 931 attempts to hack FRIDAY. That's nearly 2000 times SHIELD has paralyzed, molested and attempted to rape my virtual son and daughter. And your hands are among the guilty. So... guess how I'm going to deal with you?"

"Sta- Tony. You don't-" A bitter laugh cut her off as he talked right over whatever she'd been about to say.

"Don't have to? Oh, Widow, the fact that dear Nicky was the one who ordered all that shit is why he doesn't get to say _anything_. You were just one of his docile little followers, never looking past your orders. It doesn't change the fact you all were determined to screw me over even when I was happy to do my best for the Avengers. I've spent years trying to be what you all wanted, trying to live up to your expectations. I housed you, fed you, gave you the best armor, the best equipment, everything I could think of. I invented entirely new toys on impossible deadlines because you wanted them, despite all the other demands on my time. I tried so damn hard to be everything you wanted, and all I hoped for in return was to be accepted - to be treated with basic human decency, if not friendship. But all I got was scorn and derision, a knife in my back, a witch in my head and a vibranium frisbee in my chest. And I realized... I was never a person to you. As much as I tried to be your friend, you were never mine, none of you. You all saw me as no more than a tool to be used or a monster to be controlled. So here I am, living up to your expectations one last time. I am the monster you made me. But I will no longer be controlled by you."

He and smirked again, holding up the device in his hands before shooting a wide swath of sticky goo across her lower face. A flash of blinding light left spots in her vision and it took a few seconds to realize her jaw was now fully encased in the same substance as the rest of her body, taking away even words as tools.

"Now, if you'll excuse me, I have business in Lab 3C to finish before the staff wakes up." And he was gone, leaving the bulky suit behind as sentinel. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... the main suit here is either Mark 46 or 47, they seem pretty similar aside from color. The back up suit is a purely defensive (bulletproof vest type thing) early stage prototype of the nanotech eventually used in the Bleeding Edge armor. (yeah, not canon, but there's a couple years there in canon, it makes sense and I wanted it. Innovation a la Tony may go by leaps and bounds, but testing stages are still important!)
> 
> And I'm going with the idea that Nat (and probably Clint) never fully stopped spying on Tony and SI. It's obvious that SHIELD (or HYDRA through SHIELD - same difference) wanted more than Tony would give them, and since Nat was right there with all sorts of access...


	2. ...and I feel fine.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony muses on the technical details: an introspective interlude.

_Watch your heel crush, crush, uh oh_  
_This means no fear, cavalier, renegade and steering clear_  
_A tournament, a tournament, a tournament of lies_

The song ran through his head as Tony glanced through the security feeds, waiting for SHIELD's databases to finish downloading to the portable hard drives he'd brought along. He supposed he _could_ have copied them remotely, but saving them directly to an isolated drive was better from a security standpoint. The last attempt at getting into FRIDAY had been a virus that activated when their systems were hacked. _(Targeted at him - he knew full well he was one of the very few who successfully did so.)_ Fortunately, SHIELD had never gotten far enough into his systems to tailor the virus to FRIDAY's capabilities. She'd quickly devised a way to contain it with minimal damage to herself. _(and he was SO VERY PROUD of his darling, clever, adaptable baby girl!)_ He'd still torn the thing apart and used the information to build a new firewall for SI's corporate servers and suggest a couple ways for FRIDAY to improve her own defenses. If the enemy gives you a tool... well, the whole world had seen what he could do with scraps taken from his enemies.

A flicker of movement on one of the feeds caught his attention - a couple more agents starting to shake off the gas he'd used to knock them all out. He sent in one of his infiltration drones to deliver a second dose. He watched them slump back into boneless insensibility and chuckled, thinking about how he was going to play the next act. There would probably be a few survivors, of course. It didn't really matter; he'd already made sure of who _wouldn't_ be among them. Dear Nicky wouldn't be coming back from the dead again this time. Neither would the pirate's favorite pet spider, nor a double handful of 'special operatives'. Those with personal loyalty to the backstabber would be gone. He didn't really care one way or the other about the rest of them.

But the data, the records? He cared about those. Knowledge is power, and he'd not leave that in the hands of those he couldn't trust. _(was he even capable of trusting anyone anymore?)_ The paper files were in the process of being scanned by his drones _(91% complete)_ and this was the last of the highly classified, isolated digital systems _(download 73.7% complete)_. The labs and storerooms had all been photographed, at least; the more secure ones had been subjected to a dozen scans so he could later identify all the equipment and supplies. He'd taken samples of some _very interesting_ weapon prototypes. The rest had been set to blow. He was betting they'd rival some of his most destructive designs when they were set off. He'd make sure his copies were all that was left by obliterating the rest. If there was even anything left of that entire corridor of labs, he'd at least made certain of that. The force of the blast would be channeled into completely taking out one of the engines, and possibly damaging the support struts for another. The lab closest to the equipment room would also blow spectacularly, setting off all the little charges he'd attached to the walls, as well as the special one he'd tucked in next to Fury's neck just before sealing it in using his new little toy. He wondered briefly whether the gaseous permeability of the crystal was such that the man would suffocate, or survive long enough to have his head shattered in the explosion. Not that it mattered, in the end.

The memory of Fury and Romanov sealed in glittering crystal, hanging on the wall like modern art pieces flitted across his mind, and he smirked at the image. It was brilliant, really. Made from a cross of Spiderman's web fluid with a 'cold welding' UV-activated polymeric liquid, it kept the tensile strength of the webbing even in crystalline form, was fairly impact resistant, and fused nicely with most metals, too. Like the helicarrier's walls... He'd made sure his suit had the counteragent, of course. No sense being vulnerable to your own weapons, after all. _(He's learned that lesson, multiple times.)_ It's greatest weaknesses were temperature limited - extremes of both heat and cold would weaken the stability of the crystalline structure. Though in this case he considered that a benefit as the heat from the explosions would vaporize the cocooning restraints, leaving minimal evidence on whatever shreds remained of either Fury or Romanov.

The download finished and he smiled, packing away the portable drive before introducing an upgraded and refined version of the virus SHIELD had tried to use on him. He still had 40 minutes before they arrived and the curtains rose on the next act of this performance. Plenty of time for the virus to spread, infecting and corrupting not only their data, but critical systems as well. The helicarrier would be the gateway to any and all connected SHIELD systems. The time for patience and mercy was long gone. Though the world had largely forgotten as new scandals and disasters drew their attention, SHIELD should have remembered that Tony Stark was known for utterly annihilating those who made themselves his enemy. And he was okay with that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title and lyrics at the beginning refer to the song "It's the End of the World As We Know It" by R.E.M. It kinda fits Tony's life - rambling stream-of-consciousness, no time to slow down, full of disasters.


	3. Your Fight, Your Fault

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The new Tony isn't as easily swayed by the same old methods. They really don't know who they're dealing with, now. He's even being polite, all things considered.

The fall was glorious. 

Thirty minutes prior to the fall: FRIDAY had largely removed herself from the helicarrier's systems ahead of the virus' spread, damaging them as she left. The virus took full advantage of the cracked firewalls and open doors she left in her wake.

Twelve minutes prior to the fall: FRIDAY collected the last of Tony's drones as they finished their tasks. The few with memory space still available were set hovering at high altitude to record from multiple angles. The others had been sent to a safe house as their power supply was insufficient to get them all the way back to New York. They carried with them the external drives and samples he'd taken from various labs to await future retrieval.

Ten minutes prior to the fall: Agents who began to shake off the knock-out gas were groggily regaining their senses as the drones were no longer available to re-dose them to insensibility. (At least for areas in which he had no interests; more permanent precautions had been taken on the bridge and in select labs and offices.)

Four minutes prior to the fall: Several agents had grown coherent enough to begin trying to figure out what was happening. Chaos was bubbling near the surface; Tony could feel it as he walked the silent hallways, recording it all from his suit, commenting on the situation over the static-filled coms, controlling the narrative. "...power surge seems to have knocked a lot of systems temporarily offline, and the reported accidental release of an experimental neurotoxic gas from lab 14B seems to have affected this entire section. No fatalities I'm aware of, but everyone's out cold. Looks like we've got a few starting to come around, so dispersal patterns and dosage probably have a significant impact. It's a good thing I upgraded the suit after New York to handle extreme environmental hazards. Space was a bitch. Anyway. I'd recommend adding SCBAs to full hazmat gear before sending anyone else to check the affected areas." _{So entertaining, listening to them all start to panic.}_ A dozen labs had not yet checked in; command and all upper administration staff were also incommunicado. No one had thought to ask about the bridge, yet. Surveillance, electrical, communication, environmental and emergency systems all had multiple error messages logged. Automatic internal lockdown and quarantine procedures were initiated... 

One minute prior: Friday had completely removed herself from the last of the helicarrier's navigation systems, retaining just enough of a foothold to monitor the subroutine ensuring it couldn't recover and veer off the course they'd planned. The virus had successfully piggybacked external communications channels, and was spreading. _{So tragic.}_

Two seconds prior: keeping an eye on the countdown in his HUD, Tony reached out as if to aid a collapsed agent, armored hand cradling their shoulder just as the shockwave hit. The cameras recorded the sudden lurch, the sound of rending metal and hissing fluids from ruptured lines, the dramatic tilting of the world as the helicarrier began its final descent. Everyone around him was knocked off their feet, bouncing off the walls and floor _{still semi-conscious at best, mere props in the scene he created}_ as he fell _{threw himself}_ through one of the holes that suddenly appeared as the wall blew outward from the force of the blast. A few seconds of free-fall _{exhilarating, terrifying}_ before engaging his repulsors and chasing the burning wreck, broadcasting a Mayday all the way down. The spectacular fireball obliterated the Guardpost near the entrance to the Wakandan Valley; the shattered wreckage completely blocked any ground-based access to the outside world _{and not-so-incidentally took out one of their main shield generators as well - not that he was officially aware of its existence}_.

The suit took more damage than he'd anticipated from the shrapnel, but was still at 79% integrity and full functionality, so he called it a win. His secondary suit was enough to compensate for the damage and protect him. He let the visible damage remain rather than using the nanotech particles to repair it. The long minutes it took for the Wakandans to respond were spent 'heroically' scanning the wreckage, searching for survivors, extricating a few, _{making sure all the right things were destroyed, setting secondary detonators on the remaining intact engine and a surviving backup generator}._

As expected, the very people he _(least)_ wanted to see were leading the charge. Tony reached for one last survivor, crouching slightly to hide in the shadow of a crumpled bulkhead as Falcon flew overhead to survey the wreckage. The Witch, floating on her powers, landed gently in the meadow just beyond, not bothering with a flyover. He had a good view of her face as she smoothed her expression from a pleased little smile at the carnage into a look of innocent concern as Falcon joined her. A couple small jets touched down seconds later, and King T'Challa and his Guard emerged from the first, followed by the rest of Rogers' merry band of fugitives. Correction: most of the rest. Barnes was missing. _{and wasn't that interesting - seeing Rogers all friendly with the King who had legitimately tried to kill his one and only, multiple times, over mistaken involvement in a murder rather than merely throwing punches over an actual murder; apparently it_ was _only Tony who couldn't be trusted, in Roger's mind. He'd see them burn.}_

The second jet disgorged a group carrying medical supplies and stretchers, who immediately headed over to where he'd laid out the half-dozen survivors he'd already pulled from the wreckage. Presumably Wilson had told them, as the body dump was at an angle not easily visible from where the group of _{ex-}_ heroes had gathered. Tony snorted to himself. Heroes... sure. 'Heroes' who didn't even bother themselves to check on bodies laid neatly in a row at the edge of the debris field - an obvious indicator of at least one active rescuer - much less jump in help. Saving unconscious victims probably didn't satisfy their 'heroic' _{self-important}_ need to fight 'bad guys' and be praised for causing damage.

Tony shoved at the sheltering bulkhead, drawing a nicely dramatic groan from the tortured metal as it twisted aside and he emerged, smoke rising from the smoldering clothing of the person he was rescuing and heat radiating from his suit as he carried the unconscious body to where the medics were doing preliminary checks. He set off the detonator as he exited, and the resulting fireball took out much of what had been left intact after the crash. The shockwave almost made him stumble, the heat blistered the paint on his back _({Suit integrity, 73%. shoulder missile targeting system unresponsive} - good thing he hadn't been standing on the far side of the wreck where that engine was)_ and caused the group of 'heroes' to shield their faces, delaying a response to his presence.

The Witch snarled "STARK!" as he lay his latest rescue down beside the others, and he spared a glance her direction, ready to respond if she was going to attack. Her hands glowed red, but Rogers was talking to her, posture and gesture suggesting he was probably calming her down. Barton had his bow out, with an arrow nocked but not drawn - aggressively ready, but not willing to provoke an attack. Wilson and Lang looked uncertain, T'Challa's guards were watching the former Avengers, and T'Challa was watching him.

After making sure FRIDAY had eyes on his former teammates _("Thanks, Baby Girl!" "No problem, Boss!")_ , he turned back to the medics and lifted his faceplate, noting that two in their group had taken minor wounds from flying debris, and all of them looked a little singed around the edges. "Are you ok? I had noted two more life signs earlier, but I don't think there are any more survivors after that. Will you need help moving them to a safer location?" He graced them with his characteristic smirk. "We can't be sure that latest 'BOOM' will be the last one."

One of the women smiled at him. "Thank you, Dr. Stark. We'll do a quick triage assessment here before moving them to the jets. I am sure my brother" - she nodded to the other group, where tensions were visibly (and audibly) rising - "would like to speak to you. We certainly weren't expecting visitors."

Ah. Interesting. A member of the Royal family was taking charge of the wounded, and addressing him personally and formally. He gave her a more genuine smile than usual. "It's nice to see _one_ of the Royals cares about innocent bystanders, Your Highness. I'm sure King T'Chaka would be very proud of you, Princess...?" 

"Shuri." The smile he got was sad and a little forced, before her eyes flickered to something behind him. 

_"Boss, incoming hostile."_ FRIDAY warned, as he turned to see the Witch shove Rogers aside and begin stalking toward him. Tony slammed his faceplate down and stood protectively between the group of medics and the raging fool.

"This is all your fault!" she screamed, hands glowing as she grabbed a piece of inch-thick steel paneling from the burning wreckage with her powers as she passed. "I lost my family to you and now you're keeping Vision from me, too! You turned my home into a prison and then locked me in that horrible place! You've taken everything! And now you think you can just come here" - she threw the panel at him and he used his repulsors to blast it to the side, away from the triage area - "and take _this_ haven from me, too!" She reached with still-glowing hands for more projectiles, but Tony was quicker. She was in range, now, and he leveled his gauntlet to spray her with his new goo before turning the palm out and using a low-powered repulsor beam to crystallize it, trapping her hands, and preventing her from completing the action. He quickly followed up by immobilizing her feet as well.

"Now, now, I know HYDRA trained you well, but haven't you figured out that _everyone else_ thinks it's a bad thing to kill innocent people. That's what started this latest mess, after all." Tony couldn't help but prod as he gooed and crystallized her arms to her sides. "Seoul, Lagos, Bucharest... It's all the dead civilians that got everyone mad at you lot. You killed them, not me. And you should be nicer to Princess Shuri and her crew."

Rogers had begun to approach as he talked, aggressively bringing a new shield in front of him. _{Note to self: look into the expansion mechanism after raking a certain monarch over the coals}_ In the background he saw one of T'Challa's guards tackle Clint before he could loose an arrow. Ah, good. Back up was nice, and he could reasonably trust they'd protect the Princess, if no one else. _{He already knew no one had_ his _back. Except FRIDAY.}_ T'Challa laid a hand on Wilson's shoulder, and seemed to murmur something. With a grimace he nodded once, sharply, but didn't otherwise move. Lang was nowhere to be seen... but since he didn't see a giant about to step on him, he'd figure it out later.

"Stark..." Rogers growled, "You don't have to do this. You don't need to make this into another fight. You'll just lose again."

Tony just snorted. Whatever. Last time they'd met, he'd lost because he'd gone in thinking there was something to be salvaged. He'd thought there was a friendly connection, a reason to cooperate, to hold back. He'd been wrong. It took but a second to ensure Rogers couldn't throw this new shield by using the crystal to bind it to his body, and little more than that to encase his legs as well. 

"Really, _Rogers_?" He poured as much hatred and anger as he could into growling that name and was gratified to see the man flinch. "You beat the shit out of me, and left me to freeze to death, drowning in my own blood rather than admit you knew the truth of my parents' deaths. You lied to me, used me, and stole from me for years to protect their murderer." He heard a gasp of shock from one of the medics as he further immobilized his would-be-killer's arms and torso. Leaning in a little closer, he continued in a lower tone intended not to carry far. "Interesting tidbit, _Rogers_ , the lack of a Statute of Limitations for murder makes you an accessory after the fact - in _every single murder_ the Winter Soldier committed. And _you_ can't claim brainwashing as a mitigating factor."

"Stark?! What are you doing? We heard the Mayday, we're here to help! Our abilities would be useful in rescuing those still trapped in the wreckage!" Wilson sounded genuinely upset. As Tony circled Rogers and the witch, making sure they both were fully encased in crystal up to the neck, he wondered if he was the only one who found Wilson's words ironic.

The witch screamed epithets at him as the crystal solidified around her back and shoulders, her eyes flaring red as she sought to break free of the glittering shroud. It held and Tony took that as support for his hypothesis that she required her hands free to focus and direct her powers. But still... He shot a tranquilizer dart into her exposed neck, and after a few more seconds she stilled, a silent statue sparkling in the sun.

"No, they wouldn't." Tony glanced back at the still-blazing inferno before turning his attention to Wilson. "None of you are fireproof, and the only one of you who could act at any sort of distance already made it perfectly clear she'd prefer to endanger innocent people by throwing anything she can at my head - _again_ \- than be of true use. I scanned the area before you arrived, and pulled out those I could reach without being broiled alive in my suit - which provides a hell of a lot more protection than yours. After all, 'we save those we can, but sometimes we can't save everyone'."

"Wouldn't you agree, Rogers?" He looked over at the man as Wilson blanched slightly at the jab. The super soldier - still struggling to free himself - glared at him in acknowledgement. "You never cared about helping. Not really, no matter what you claimed. You certainly didn't make any sort of effort to clear the rubble and find survivors in Lagos. None of you did. Not even your trained para-rescue surrogate BFF over there. Nor did you even suggest the possibility of being able to help with clearing the tunnel you collapsed in Bucharest. You've left a swath of deceit, death and destruction in your wake. And you think that I should just stand aside? You think the _whole damn world_ should just shrug it off? **YOU** are the one who keeps making this into a fight, _Rogers_. You tell yourself you're protecting your murderous little assassin BFF, protecting your team, protecting the 'little guy', but you haven't protected **any** of them. It was your fight, YOUR fault Barton is no longer retired to a happily-ever-after with his family. YOUR fault you and Wilson no longer have the option of erasing all your bad choices." He ignored Wilson's surprised exclamation of 'what?!' at that - because of _course_ Captain Pants_On_Fire hadn't bothered _telling his teammates things._ "YOUR fault your darling boyfriend is now facing charges as _himself_ that cannot be explained away with brainwashing. YOUR fault that poor little Wanda-boo got thrown in the Raft." A second tranquilizer dart found a home in Roger's neck. "And I'm done being your whipping boy."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if Shuri seems a little OOC in this and the next chapter. I don't have the greatest handle on her.
> 
> edits: added this note and caught a sentence fragment.


	4. Strange Way of Showing You Care

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> urgh... this chapter has been obstinate. T'Challa refuses to cooperate, and Shuri is being no help whatsoever at corralling her brother. 9_9 (granted, she has other priorities just now.)  
> So... I'm not entirely happy with how this turned out; thanks for your patience, and I hope you enjoy.

Trusting T'Challa and his bodyguards to continue dealing with the relatively less dangerous of the Rogues, Tony turned his back to the now-unconscious Captain and his pet Witch and returned to the triage area. With scarcely a dozen casualties, much of what could be done had already been done. 

Flipping up his faceplace, he asked with a grin, "Are any ready to be moved, Princess? I doubt this is likely to become an active fight zone, now, but it's still not entirely safe. I'd be more than willing to help." 

"Thank you for the offer, Dr. Stark. With the stretchers, I believe our current manpower will be sufficient to get these all safely to the jet, and I've called for a third that's better equipped for multiple stretchers." Suiting actions to words, her assistants began moving the first of the wounded toward the waiting jet. 

"As you say, Your Highness. I'll just see about clearing out your pest infestation, then, shall I?" 

"That would be much appreciated." Shuri hesitated, clearly wanting to say more but debating the wisdom of doing so, before nodding to herself. "They are not generally welcome here, despite my idiot brother's decisions. The sooner you can remove them, the better, in my opinion." 

"Hmmm. Your brother disagrees?" 

"He wished to make amends to Sergeant Barnes for his rash accusations and actions. He has simply refused to stand up to the rest of them." 

Tony cast a pointed glance at Rogers' new shield and simply raised one eyebrow. 

"My brother is King, Dr. Stark. I can advise him, but it doesn't mean he listens."

"Yeah... I know all about stubborn idiots who refuse to hear what they don't want to. Strangely enough, several of them are here under your brother's protection. Where is Frosty, by the way? I'd have thought he'd still be right there with his bestest friend ever. Mostly because Cap would never let his special Snowflake out of his sight, but..." 

"Less than a week after his arrival, Sergeant Barnes requested that we put him back in cryostasis so that he could not become a danger to anyone else. His mind is a mess, and he had been operating in a state of panic and adrenaline since Bucharest. It took him a few days to drop out of that state. He made the request almost immediately after. He fears being triggered, either with words or by his traumas, and causing harm. The Captain objected, of course. He does not wish to see how he hurt Sergeant Barnes, dragging him through all that mess, when all he wants is whatever degree of peace he can find, even if it is to linger in the ice on the edge of death." 

Tony took a moment to process that. It changed nothing, of course. There was merely the possibility of new paths going forward. 

Shuri looked past him at the still burning wreckage, then in the direction of her brother and grimaced. "I don't suppose you'd offer your help in ... containing... the stupidly violent Colonizer, would you, Dr. Stark?" she asked. "The Dora are more than capable, of course, but your way seems more likely to avoid any broken bones. We have enough people requiring medical attention as it is." 

Tony gave her a smirk and saluted sarcastically in acknowledgement. "Be careful, Princess. It's a jungle out there." he sang as he turned to leave. When he'd covered about half the distance, he whispered _"Fri, when the first responders are all on their way to the jets with their last patients and out of the probable blast range, set off that last detonator. We'll send them off with a bang."_

As he approached T'Challa's group, Barton caught sight of him and thrashed against the competently scary woman holding him, almost succeeding in wrenching himself from her grasp. Though his bow had been taken and his quiver emptied and despite a second woman joining the first, he continued to fight them in a ferocious attempt to attack Tony, cursing and swearing dire retribution for Tony's... unforgivable sin of successful self-defense against the Witch, apparently. 

"Shall I take care of him, Your Majesty? Since he's so determined to join Rogers and the Witch at all cost, I'd be happy to assist." At the king's nod, Tony fired a dart into his neck and began encasing the limp archer in goo, beginning at his feet. "I'll get his lower half first so you lovely _~~{terrifying}~~_ ladies can let go and avoid getting stuck with him while I finish the job." As he went to crystallize it, however, the motion of his arm stuttered oddly. _"Fri? Run a diagnostic. Tell me what's up, Baby Girl."_

 _'It seems to be a similar issue to what we had in Leipzig, Boss. Applying updated 'Pest Control' protocol, now.'_ A brief tingle of electricity buzzed across his skin as the suit ran through protocols to fry foreign trackers and bugs before the hiss of the fire suppression system expelled the problem ... directly into the goo coating Barton's legs. In a blink, a still-twitching Ant-Man appeared, face smushed against the archer's knee. Turning slightly to account for the damaged arm rotors, Tony hardened the crystal matrix to trap him there before finishing the job of encasing both of them more completely. 

Using the counteragent, Tony carefully dissolved just enough of the crystal to clear the faceplate of the Ant-Man suit before attaching a small disk to the helmet. "I'm so glad I took the time to talk to van Dyne before heading out here. That nifty little device has just stunted your growth." He smirked. "You're pretty much out of options, and I have a couple questions for you, so I'd suggest answering them. First: can you breathe? Because if I accidentally smother you and deny Hope the chance to eviscerate you, she'll gut me instead. I'm really not a fan of having my insides on display. Been there, done that, burned the T-shirt." 

After a slightly-too long pause, the not-a-hero responded "Yeah, sorta. One of the filters is clogged, though." 

"What the hell, Pym hates me anyway." Tony reached over and crumpled the bottom of the mask, leaving a gaping hole. "That better?" After a brief pause for confirmation, he continued "Second question; what the hell do you think you were doing?" 

"Just trying to help my team, man. I mean, I know it didn't exactly work so well last time, but I figured it was worth a try, 'cept the Dora got Clint down before he could take the shot." 

A violent explosion shook the ground as the last detonator went off. _{God, he loved remote control}_ The explosion also jogged a memory and several pieces slotted into place in his mind as ash and debris rained down around them. 

"Last time? As in Leipzig? That explains so much. I'd wondered why Barton thought an arrow would do shit against my suit. Ya know, you were pretty much a non-entity. A ridiculous amount of property damage and really annoying, but I was happy to leave you at that. You had no blood on your hands, no kill count. Aside from the airport, you had no other charges pending. Well, and whatever Pym Tech has regarding the suit, I guess. If you'd just been smart enough to sit this one out like Wilson, you'd have been good to go. But now? Now I know you were trying to kill me, too, not just obstructing the apprehension of a known terrorist." 

"What? no - I wasn't trying to kill you! Just disable the suit so we could do what we had to." 

"...An extremely complex marvel-of-engineering suit you damn well shouldn't have the schematics to, packing enough explosives to level a small city and a power source you don't understand. Were you just randomly pulling wires and trusting to blind luck you wouldn't trigger an explosion? Or complete loss of power? Because at 600 feet, falling would likely kill me ... Oh, God, you're the reason that repulsor cut out! _You're_ why I didn't have as much speed and maneuverability as usual! You're why I couldn't get to Rhodey in time!" T'Challa's guard responded just in time to restrain him from punching Lang as the man went pasty white.

"Dr. Stark, he is contained. There is no need for further violence." T'Challa admonished as Wilson exclaimed "Jeez, Stark, you really are out of control. First Barnes' arm, now this?" 

Tony paled at the reminder of Siberia, then glared at Wilson and growled, "Fine. Non-violent justice it is." and two more tranquilizer darts soon found their targets. Still snarling inside, but momentarily satisfied, he looked at all the lovely statues, glistening in the sun, at Wilson's limp and more conventionally restrained body. _{what a lovely sight. Even lovelier would be seeing them all utterly, permanently crushed, his lingering intent of lenience for these two now gone with Wilson's words.}_

T'Challa and his bodyguards relaxed slightly as Tony took a deep breath and turned away from his ex-teammates _~~{future victims},~~_ though the ladies, at least, were still wart and alert.

"I was coming to get them safely to the UN headquarters for indictment. I was on the Helicarrier because SHIELD has a vested interest in them not ending up in the Raft, and I'd hoped that they'd feel safe enough with SHIELD to come quietly. But if not, they still had the Hulk-proof cage, after all - containment and transportation all in one, if needed." He shrugged and gestured vaguely to the catastrophe behind him. "Unfortunately, it looks like that plan is scrapped, now. This is Plan C. I'd rather not have to add Plan K to this. So... since you've been willingly harboring known international fugitives, Your Majesty, would you be so kind as to loan one of your jets and willingly accompany us so you can explain your side of the matter to the Council as well? You won't be able to hide your involvement, I'm afraid. The Accords Council knew I was coming here, and the Red Cross, at the very least, will be sending people in the wake of that crash. Your cooperation in bringing internationally wanted terrorists to the proper authorities would help mitigate political repercussions. Wakanda, in the person of your late father, _was_ one of the primary movers and first signatories of the Accords, after all. Simple transportation is all I ask."

T'Challa looked as though he'd like to object, before schooling his face into bland politeness. "May I suggest moving to palace for further discussion. There are several details regarding transport that would need to be settled."

"With all due respect, Your Majesty, no. I'd rather not have this discussion any further on your turf than we already are. Given your blatant support of them, I feel safer here with the potential of that thing having another Boom or three waiting in the wings than in your stronghold." Tony replied, indicating the Helicarrier-fueled inferno.

A brief twitch before settling into an even blander mask was all the indication Tony had of T'Challa's displeasure. _{The puppy had at least been trained in putting on masks. Such a pity he hadn't also had self-control beaten into his arrogant head...}_ "I see. Perhaps you'd be more comfortable out of armor? I can arrange for lunch to be brought while we talk."

"Again, Your Majesty, no. Thank you for asking. I wouldn't feel safe, given your actions in Siberia. You left me to die every bit as much as they did, and I learned a very pointed lesson on how Enhanced can damage us squishy normal people." 

T'Challa's mask slipped then. "I swear to you, Dr. Stark. I didn't know you were injured. When I asked, I was told you were fine and just needed time to cool off. I... I had recently come to a better understanding of the importance of cooling off for a time. I offered sanctuary to Sergeant Barnes as a Debt of Honor to one I had wronged. I did not realize that I was wronging you in listening to their words. In believing them." 

"And yet, you believed them. After everything. You were at Leipzig, hell, you were at _Bucharest!_ You _saw_ how little they care for the damage they cause others, how quick they are to write off that damage as unimportant! ...I suppose you didn't live with them constantly lying to you for the last several years while demanding the moon, so maybe you'd have a slightly less jaundiced view of their integrity. But you still made choices there, and you, too, need to take responsibility for your choices, just as your father demanded of the rest of the world. You took Barnes in because you felt you'd wronged him with your accusations, yet you've used your diplomatic immunity to avoid even admitting fault for all those you wronged far worse in Bucharest, much less attempt to make things right. Your 'honor' seems a very circumstantial thing." 

T'Challa gripped his spear tighter, anger, guilt, something that may have been fear warring on his face with pride and stubborn refusal to yield. Despite the glares of the really scary bodyguards, Tony lifted one hand, prepared to goo the young king if needed, when T'Challa suddenly deflated. "You have a valid point, Dr. Stark. I have been quietly backing recovery efforts, and offering aid where I could but political issues around offering a public apology make it non feasible. I cannot risk my country's well-being by handing such a weakness to our opponents." 

"Then why the hell protect this lot? Doing so just makes you accessory to ALL _their_ crimes, and you approach the point diplomatic immunity will be insufficient. Considering how many of the casualties in Bucharest are at least partially attributable to you, personally, it is hard to believe you care about innocent bystanders in any case, and your delay in admitting you are in the wrong - in giving an apology - have done you no favors. There are those who whisper that Wakanda's support of the Accords is a fickle, fragile thing, and that you will treat any and all future agreements the same way. You merely leave your country that much weaker and more exposed. And even before Bucharest, how many of your people died in Lagos? Those people are one of the main reasons your father got involved with the Accords - to help ensure those responsible could be held accountable for any future tragedies. And who has been living in your palace, dining at your table, enjoying the luxuries you provide? Whom have you resupplied and supported, protected from retribution, gifted with new weapons? The self-same group whose poor decisions and lack of accountability inspired your father to demand they take responsibility for their own actions. You have a strange way of showing you care about your people, Your Majesty. "


	5. If You Wish to Remain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'd thought this would be the last chapter, but after Shuri exited stage left, the Dora Milaje (Okoye in particular) just had to weigh in on the matter. Hopefully they're/she's not too OOC. I haven't actually seen BP, so some stuff about the Dora Milaje comes from other fanfiction.  
> Also, those of you who noticed the final chapter count last time... I guess you'll be getting a bit more of my rambling that I'd thought. ^^; Hope you enjoy.

Tony's last words had touched a nerve, if the mask T'Challa had slipped back on was any indication. There had been some interesting (though minute) reactions from the guards, too. Not really wanting to deal with any more self-righteous posturing, Tony left him to stew in his thoughts. Instead, he turned with a smile to the lady who had first tackled Clint, deliberately ignoring the silent communication between one of the other guards and the young king.

"So, Ant-Man said Dora had taken down Angry Bird, here. Is Dora your name, or is it a title? In either case, thank you for your excellent reaction time. Having my suit sabotaged before I was able to incapacitate Rogers and the Witch would have ended very badly for me... and probably for the medics and Princess Shuri as well. ... and I doubt many of the wounded would have survived, either, come to think of it. So, thanks on their behalf, too." 

She graced him with a smile _(And hot damn, she was scary even when she was smiling)_ "You are welcome, Dr. Stark. We are the Dora Milaje, my name is Nakia. It is our duty to protect, and we thank you for standing between our Princess and the crazy one." 

"You are welcome. It is my pleasure to assist such formidable protectors as yourselves!" He looked at her companions "I'd also like to offer my compliments on how efficiently you trussed up Wilson, and thank you for intervening before I broke Ant-Man's face. Returning damaged merchandise works when shopping, but I suspect I'd be facing charges of police brutality or ... something ... if I brought him back in too bad of shape." He winked quasi-flirtatiously. Two of the ladies smiled in return and gave him a nod. The other two had excellent poker faces, and one was studying him intently. Judging by their body language, she was most likely the ranking member of this group and was setting off his internal alarms in ways even Black Widow hadn't. 

T'Challa seemed to have taken the time to actually think, somewhat to his surprise. Or the silent communication thing had been effective. "I have called for a cargo jet to meet us here, Dr. Stark. Given their current condition, I do not think your charges would find my usual jet able to accommodate them all. It should arrive momentarily." 

"Hmm, you're probably right; they are rather bulkier, now. Is there a seat for you to join us on this new jet, or will you be following in the one you arrived on?" 

"You presume much with that question, Dr. Stark. Perhaps I shall simply wish you Godspeed." 

Tony smirked. "Perhaps. It is your choice, after all. Just as long as you are aware that you cannot choose the consequences of that decision, I shan't complain." 

T'Challa bristled slightly before changing the topic. "What awaits them when they arrive? I must assume that adequate holding facilities have been secured which are... more humane than the Raft. They had much to say about the state of that place."

Tony snorted "And did they tell you that the Raft was a temporary holding location while legal representation was sorted out? Are they even aware that breaking out and that assaulting and killing several guards on the way just made things worse for them? The ICC is currently preparing for trials for the Rogues to begin in absentia - at this point it's mainly focused on gathering of evidence and consolidating charges from several different countries. They've got people combing through the dumped SHIELD/HYDRA files as well as some of the security footage I've handed over, and I've submitted evidence of misuse of Avengers' funds by Rogers and Wilson in multiple unsanctioned missions - including Lagos - presumably in search of Barnes. Especially with several Bucharest victims in critical condition, time was deemed too short to wait for the Rogues to be brought in before beginning official proceedings. Actually, I think the fact _I_ was in critical condition was what jump-started the whole circus. Time was very much of the essence. Luckily for everyone, I'm just too damn stubborn to die, yet, and creative enough to come up with ways to work around a lot of my limitations." 

Tony didn't miss the pointed glare the chief(?) of the Dora Milaje sent T'Challa, nor the twitch of a nod in his direction. Twice, now, Tony had referenced his previously imminent demise, and she obviously wanted him to say something on the matter. Ask questions. Offer polite platitudes? Something. Tony waited a beat longer than he would otherwise have, giving the young king a chance. 

"And Sergeant Barnes? He is safely contained here. What of him?" ...aaand there went a lot of the goodwill Tony would have extended. _{seriously, why the hell was he even surprised how little anyone cared any more?}_

"I have no issue with leaving the Iceman in the freezer for now, but I suspect that future decisions depend on what turns up in the data dump. I'm not in a position to make promises on that. I'm sure someone will be in contact to ask questions about him and his treatment." _{ ~~sorry~~ no he's not.}_

The glare the scary lady was giving the king intensified slightly and Tony was more than happy for the distraction of the cargo jet's arrival to avoid pretending not to notice it. Looking back to Nakia, he asked "I don't suppose a couple of you delightful ladies would be willing to help? I can carry a hefty load in the suit, but the double statue here is gonna be awkwa~rd to move solo. Unless you have a dolly? Do you guys use dollys? They're very useful ..." He continued blathering on as one of the Dora picked up WIlson and two of the others helped balance the combined mass of Barton and Ant-Man as he carried it toward the waiting jet. He supposed he _could_ just separate them into two pieces, but... well, this was a good chance to get the Dora out of hearing of their boss and maybe ask a couple _{totally innocuous!}_ questions. 

Okoye took advantage of Tony's temporary absence to address T'Challa. "With all due respect, my King, Dr. Stark has the ear of many of the people whose good opinion would help smooth over your less-than-well-considered choices. Cooperating with him fully on this would help Wakanda. Go with him. Speak to the UN. Answer their questions as honestly as you can while putting a good spin on the situation. I also strongly recommend that you set aside your pride in private and speak with Dr. Stark personally. He deliberately left you an opening here and you squandered it. It is on you, now, to make the opportunity to talk. Everything I have learned of him indicates he does not suffer fools, but does respect intelligent and thoughtful questions and debate. He would not appreciate grovelling, but you should apologize - in more than words, if necessary - and seek his counsel. He knows how to play international politics and present the best picture. Listen to him. Show him the respect you would give your father, and ask questions to improve your understanding and skill. Most of all, do not discount his recommendations just because you do not like them. He has implied that he still suffers from what has happened to him - offer him aid as you did Everett, and as freely. You cannot afford to offend him more than you already have. Wakanda needs allies, especially now. He would be a powerful one." 

T'Challa stiffened at her rebuke. "I am aware that I have made mistakes, Okoye. You need not act in my mother's stead."

"My King, you know the Dora Milaje support you so long as you seek what is best for Wakanda. Part of that support is to offer counsel. I say again: put aside your pride. Cooperate. Apologize. _Mean it._ As we serve Wakanda, not our individual tribes, you, too, must serve Wakanda, not any faction of it, nor just your own family and friends. Our counsel and your actions must reflect those priorities. We protect our King from outside dangers, but we will also protect Wakanda from the King if necessary. Since the presence and identity of your guests became known, there have been questions asked of your fitness as king, regardless of how you performed in the Trials. As yet, they are whispers, but the people are watching. Respect for your late father and for your grief has bought you time and leniency, but neither will last much longer if you do not show you have Wakanda's interests at heart. Heed my words, my King, if you wish to remain my King."

T'Challa glanced at her uncertainly, every bit of his youth and inexperience showing on his face as he answered. "I... I will try. The recent troubles here at home have left me little time to consider such things. The trials, Baba's funeral, ...everything. I have had little time or inclination for introspection. These last few minutes have shown me I was wrong to neglect that. I have not questioned my actions, nor the requests made of me by others. I fear I have been hasty yet again in my dealings with outsiders - both with the Captain, and now with Stark. I will seek to rectify this situation. I can only hope I succeed."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's a lot of debate on the intersection of justice and human rights WRT being tried in absentia. For more information on trial in absentia in international courts, you may find [this report](https://www.ibanet.org/ICC_ICL_Programme/ICL_Trials_in_Absentia_2016.aspx) informative. _{TLDR: in absentia trials are usually acceptable if 3 criteria are met: notification to the accused of the trial (significant effort), appointed legal representation for the accused, and right to re-trial. Continuing effort to bring the accused into custody is often considered a fourth criterion. As with all things involving lawyers, there is a lot of debate involved.}_
> 
> Reasons for allowing in absentia trials include to provide some form of closure for the victims in cases where the perpetrator is either unknown or fugitive, the defendant is fleeing justice/ abroad, and ensuring admissibility of evidence gathered - for example when a witness is close to dying or in continuing danger of being targeted.


	6. Thanks (for the Foot in the Door)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The fates of various individuals were just not meshing into a coherent chapter, so you a few shorter chapters later. ~_* Enjoy!

The flight to deliver the Rogues had been predictably boring. Tony had escorted the jet in the suit, letting FRIDAY take over the piloting as he took phone calls with various representatives and officials to debrief, arrange the hand off and set up an emergency meeting of the Council to speak with T'Challa. That had all been fairly routine. T'Challa's efforts to talk with him over the coms and in person after they had landed had been awkward, but Tony had let him _(attempt to)_ apologize before giving the man a polite (though stiff) nod of acknowledgement and walking off. 

Despite the awkwardness, things went smoothly. He was on call if something went down at the holding facility, but it was no longer his show and Tony appreciated the relative respite. 

He and FRIDAY had skimmed through footage of all the Avengers' missions, surveillance from the Compound and Tower, SHIELD files from the info-dump, and all the news reports from Ultron on. It was amazing how much incriminating evidence there was. Enough so that, especially with the number of countries pressing charges, it became the first time the ICC would be handling charges of terrorism. _{ah~ international cooperation at its finest}_

After compiling some highlights for the ICC investigators and flagging several gigabytes of data for the investigative team to review, he released a series of "best of" online, with promises to link the full footage once the investigators were done. The constant sneers and slurs on his character, the continual put-downs and demands, the utter lack of respect, trust, decency and gratitude - all revealed. The Witch's repeated threats of injury and death, her past with HYDRA, their training of her powers, and her involvement with Ultron - laid bare to the public eye. Captain America's lies, misuse of funds, outright theft, indifference to civilians and continual justification and excusing of the Witch's behaviour - on display for the world to see. Wilson's blind obedience, Lang's theft (and that had been a surprise), Barton's past deeds and lack of remorse, the Widow's shady (bloody) past and repeated betrayals - opened to scrutiny. _{watching them be torn apart gave him a new appreciation for ancient Roman entertainment}_

In all the chaos, Ross had been removed from authority pending a full investigation and without his rabid interference the Accords were well on the way to being negotiated into something reasonable for all involved. 

Tony's part in this whole ordeal was over and the wheels of bureaucracy could turn as slowly as usual and he would hardly care. He still had more than enough to fill his plate, but even with the ongoing investigation into the crash of the Helicarrier it no longer felt like said plate was going to spill at the slightest attempt to shift it. He'd actually gotten a couple nights of comparatively unbroken sleep. 

He still got some surprises, of course, as the investigators ran into the unexpected and needed his expertise. A few weeks into the trials, Tony was contacted by the CIA regarding a virus they'd tracked back to SHIELD. _{This was gonna be fun!}_

Ok... the red tape of security clearances wasn't all fun, but once they set him up with a computer? - that was fun. Particularly since he was _very_ familiar with the code that showed up once he began tearing open the virus... _{he always recognized his own work, after all}_

"hmmm, did anyone in your department try hacking SHIELD recently?" 

"... classified. Not to mention anything gained in such a way would be inadmissible as evidence, and therefore a waste of our time." 

"Pfft! Not like I'm going to blame you for it. Every time they tried to get into my systems, I'd get into theirs as a 'thank you' present, and knowing them, it's probably the only way they'd "cooperate fully" with your investigation. Ol' One-Eye was always lying to me; I generally preferred to at least have some idea how much of what he said was lies." He winked at the agents and whispered "I'll give you a hint: about 80% hot air, and 15% bullshit." They laughed politely but he could see the gleam of real humor in it. 

"In any case, what I'm seeing here looks pretty similar to a virus they used against me ... um, between Lagos and Bucharest. I could look up the actual date if you need it. This one looks more complex, though - they probably upgraded it to try again when the last one didn't get very far. But that means either they tried to hack you or you tried to hack them. Again, I'm not going to assign any sort of blame, but that's where you should probably start looking to see what's been compromised in your databanks."

After a bit of (professionally friendly) back and forth, Tony admitted to having torn the original apart and developed countermeasures. One of the agents rather testily asked him why he hadn't alerted anyone or made the fix available, and Tony just laughed.

"It was included in the most recent auto-update to StarkTech anti-virus software. We followed all industry standards regarding transparency in the release. It's not my fault that SHIELD's too dumb or arrogant to protect against their own stupidity. And if other intelligence agencies haven't yet admitted my stuff is the best, well that's not on me either. If you're willing to provide me a copy of this data, I'll see whether the Version 1 fix is adequate or I need to develop a patch for this newest iteration. I'll even give you a discounted price in exchange for the data. I have to consider my own tech, after all."

The agents looked at each other, and called their tech and finance managers to set up a meeting. _{Ok... meetings also weren't particularly fun, though he did enjoy fleecing at least three government agencies._

Investigation into the Helicarrier crash eventually turned up their black box, showing error messages and system failure logs prior to Iron Man requesting permission to board. _{Fortunately, FRIDAY hadn't needed to ask}_

Due to the location of the wreck, Wakanda ended up being more in the public eye than they'd wanted much sooner than they wanted. _{Watching the kitten-king squirm had been fun, too}_

The conclusion was reached that due to internal system failures SHIELD's virus had gotten loose, culminating in catastrophic failure of all major systems, the loss of the Helicarrier and the deaths of almost all on board. _{such a pity}_

Tony felt pretty good about that - no blame attached to him, _AND_ he got bonus points with the CIA, FBI, and DOD (and a few foreign intelligence agencies) by helping limit damage to their systems using the fixes he'd 'put in place' after SHIELD's attempt on SI with v1. ...and ~~not-so~~ -incidentally got a sanctioned foothold in a lot of government servers. _{it was so nice to see the dividends a little bit of work could yield}_

Working with the Secretary of Defense was especially fun. 

"I'm assuming U.S. Intelligence Agencies use similarly restrictive contracts and NDAs as the Military. I've worked with them for years, with no problems on my end. ...except, I suppose, that one time we had to renegotiate a lot of contracts in a fairly short period of time. These contracts are similar, though tailored more to cybersecurity than missiles." _{and I already know all the loopholes}_

"Thank you, Dr. Stark. We appreciate your assistance." _{Oh, if you only knew}_

" It's a pleasure working with you Mr. Secretary." _{yes, the pleasure is definitely all mine}_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the last of the timeline-based chapters. The ones dealing with individuals are less well-placed temporally, but would most likely overlap. They are not Tony-centric, but you can bet he has a hand in the background.
> 
> Tomorrow I will post an alt-Chapter, for those of you who want a darker, more vindictive Tony than the long-term planner, trap-door spider persona I've mostly gone with here.


	7. Alternate - Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I almost had the middle of Chapter 3 go like this... but I'd already had several of the other conversations with the Rogues worked out, and felt it would be far too Mary Sue-ish for Tony to just waltz over and have anything resembling a civil conversation if he had gone this route...
> 
> This half-chapter starts just after the Rogues have arrived as per Chapter 3. Shuri is not among the medics.
> 
> Enjoy!

Tony shoved at the sheltering bulkhead, drawing a nicely dramatic groan from the tortured metal as it twisted aside and he emerged, smoke rising from the smoldering clothing of the person he was 'rescuing' and heat radiating from his suit as he carried the unconscious body to where the medics were doing preliminary checks. He set off the detonator as he exited, and the resulting fireball took out much of what had been left intact after the crash. The shockwave almost made him stumble, the heat blistered the paint on his back ({Suit integrity, 73%. shoulder missile targeting system unresponsive} - good thing he hadn't been standing on the far side of the wreck where that engine was) and caused the group of 'heroes' to shield their faces, delaying a response to his presence.

The Witch snarled "STARK!" as he lay his latest rescue down beside the others, and he spared a glance her direction, ready to respond if she was going to attack. Her hands glowed red, but Rogers was talking to her, posture and gesture suggesting he was probably calming her down. Barton had his bow out, with an arrow nocked but not drawn - aggressively ready, but not willing to provoke an attack. Wilson and Lang looked uncertain, T'Challa's guards were watching the former Avengers, and T'Challa was watching him.

After making sure FRIDAY had eyes on his former teammates _("Thanks, Baby Girl!" "No problem, Boss!")_ , he turned back to the medics and lifted his faceplate, noting that two in their group had taken minor wounds from flying debris, and all of them looked a little singed around the edges. "Are you ok? I had noted two more life signs earlier, but I don't think there are any more survivors after that. Will you need help moving them to a safer location?" He graced them with his characteristic smirk. "We can't be sure that latest 'BOOM' will be the last one."

One of the women smiled at him. "Thank you, Dr. Stark. We'll do a quick triage assessment here before moving them to the jets. I've called for one better equipped to handle multiple stretchers."

_"Boss, incoming hostile."_ FRIDAY warned, as he turned to see the Witch shove Rogers aside and begin stalking toward him. Tony slammed his faceplate down and stood protectively between the group of medics and the raging fool.

"This is all your fault!" she screamed, hands glowing as she grabbed a piece of inch-thick steel paneling from the burning wreckage with her powers as she passed. "I lost my family to you and now you're keeping Vision from me, too! You turned my home into a prison and then locked me in that horrible place! You've taken everything! And now you think you can just come here" - she threw the panel at him and he used his repulsors to blast it to the side, away from the triage area - "and take this haven from me, too!" She reached with still-glowing hands for more projectiles, but Tony was quicker. She was in range, now, and he leveled his gauntlet to spray her with his new goo before turning the palm out and using a low-powered repulsor beam to crystallize it, trapping her hands, and preventing her from completing the action. No red mist was escaping from the encasing crystal, so he quickly followed up by immobilizing her feet as well.

"Now, now, I know HYDRA trained you well, but haven't you figured out that _everyone else_ thinks it's a bad thing to kill innocent people. For all that you insist _I'm_ the Merchant of Death, you've been selling far more of that than I have in recent years. That's what started this latest mess, after all." Tony couldn't help but prod as he gooed and crystallized her arms to her sides as she spat curses and threats at him. "Seoul, Lagos, Bucharest... It's all the dead civilians that got everyone mad at you lot. _You_ killed them, not me."

Rogers had begun to approach as he talked, aggressively bringing a new shield in front of him. _{Note to self: look into the expansion mechanism after raking a certain monarch over the coals}_ In the background he saw one of T'Challa's guards tackle Clint before he could loose an arrow. Ah, good. Back up was nice. _{He already knew no one had his back. Except FRIDAY.}_ T'Challa laid a hand on Wilson's shoulder, and seemed to murmur something. With a grimace he nodded once, sharply, but didn't otherwise move. Lang was nowhere to be seen... but since he didn't see a giant about to step on him, he'd figure it out later.

"Stark..." Rogers growled, "You don't have to do this. You don't need to make this into another fight. You'll just lose again."

Tony just snorted. Whatever. Last time they'd met, he'd lost because he'd gone in thinking there was something to be salvaged. He'd thought there was a friendly connection, a reason to cooperate, to hold back. He'd been wrong. It took but a second to ensure Rogers couldn't throw this new shield by using the crystal to bind it to his body, and little more than that to encase his legs as well.

"Really, _Rogers_?" He poured as much hatred and anger as he could into growling that name and was gratified to see the man flinch. "You beat the shit out of me, and left me to freeze to death, drowning in my own blood rather than admit you knew the truth of my parents' deaths. You lied to me, used me, and stole from me for years to protect their murderer." He heard a gasp of shock from one of the medics as he further immobilized his would-be-killer's arms and torso. Leaning in a little closer, he continued, "Interesting tidbit, Rogers, it only takes 2% thrust to fly a 600+ pound suit. I tried 10% to start, and it packed a hell of a punch. In fights I seldom use much more than that - I think I've gone as high as 25%. Now, you know how I like science and I've been wondering ... what 100% would do?"

Without looking, Tony fired a repulsor at the still struggling, cursing Witch. He heard the medics gasp, and Rogers blanched. Tony just smirked and turned to view his handiwork. The now-headless corpse slumped in what was left of the crystal encasing the smoking half-torso. "Oh, I guess that's what it does. Interesting. Ya know, _Rogers_ , its only science if the experiment can be replicated... let's try it again, shall we?" He raised his hand, and fired.

"The hell, Stark?! Oh, my God, there was no need for that! What are you doing? We heard the Mayday, we're here to help!" Wilson horrified confusion was delightful. 

"There's nothing _you'd_ be able to do." Tony glanced at the still-blazing inferno before turning his attention back to Wilson. "None of you are fireproof, and the only one of you who could act at any sort of distance already made it perfectly clear she'd prefer to endanger innocent people by throwing anything she can at my head - again - than be of true use. I scanned the area before you arrived, and pulled out those I could reach without being broiled alive in my suit - which provides a hell of a lot more protection than yours. After all, 'we save those we can, but sometimes we can't save everyone'." 

Yeah, he enjoyed the man's flinch at that, too. 

"As for what I'm doing? I'm sure you're familiar with the saying "When in Rome, do as the Romans", aren't you? Judging by King Kitty's actions, it is perfectly acceptable in Wakanda to seek personal vengeance against someone who terribly wronged you by killing them. And to go through anyone and everyone else to do so. Since we are supposed to follow the laws and respect the ways of the country we are in - which all of you consistently ignore - I am within my rights here to avenge the deaths of my parents, the attempted murder of me, personally, and prolonged, repeated mental violation and trauma. And now I have done so for two of the worst offenders. So... two down, five to go? Does that sound about right?" 

He grinned behind his mask and set off the remaining detonator and two short range missiles. Pity about the collateral damage...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those of you who like Dark!Tony, you might take a look at [ If You Say So](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25349728) It's just a few little short scenes that don't fit in this fic and which I (currently) have no intentions of expanding.


	8. Omake - Wakanda

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Relations with Wakanda move forward
> 
> i.e. T'Challa makes (some) amends and gets subtly warned. Shuri gets shown up, but is a good sport about it. Okoye is reluctantly impressed.

T'Challa's efforts to talk with him over the coms and later after the landed had been awkward, but Tony had let him _(attempt to)_ apologize and after a suitable period for T'Challa to admit that crossing Tony StarkTM was a bad idea, 'graciously' accepted compensation - it sounded like they could get Rhodey walking properly again, without mechanical aids! He'd trust them with Rhodey's legs for now (he could always improve the prosthetic braces he'd made if Wakanda's attempts failed, after all), and enjoy the unfettered access to their labs to observe the procedure. _{ ~~it's not like~~ he was totally going to use that access to 'borrow' a hell of a lot of information}_

A partnership with SI to help Wakanda leverage new medical tech and smooth their way into the world was such a small "price" to pay for Rhodey, and Princess Shuri had seemed competent and forthright in their first, brief, meeting. T'Challa was... not entirely clueless, but Tony could only assume the offer came because the scary lady who had been glaring at T'Challa had given him an ultimatum. _{Did that make her T'Challa's Pepper?}_

Tony was ~~nervous~~ excited, to say the least. He'd been in contact with Shuri via video chat, and had spoken to several of Wakanda's medical professionals and the moment of truth had arrived. He and Rhodey had arrived in Wakanda for the procedure that would _hopefully!!_ let his Honeybear walk again. The amount of time between the injury and treatment made the outcome less than certain. They'd be here for a week, all told - preparation, treatment and recovery. Rhodey had several private meetings with the healers and Shuri had offered to let him come play in the lab with her to distract his all-too-active mind from conjuring increasingly worst case scenarios as he waited. He knew it was really only a partial solution - there would always be a part of his brain dedicated to his Platypus' well-being. That was simply an immutable fact of the universe. But the distraction would keep it from consuming his thoughts, which that was a good thing - despair and boredom tended to result in things going "BOOM" with him. And, ya know, lab time! In a new playground with toys he'd never used before! With a potential science-buddy he was coming to respect.

They were formally greeted by T'Challa, Shuri, a few ambassadorial types, two healers and, of course, a small squad of Dora Milaje. T'Challa greeted them with polite words and a nod. Official presentation to the Court was arranged for the following day. The healers were introduced and a couple Dora were assigned to them as guides and guards for the duration of their stay. The official types excused themselves and Rhodey left in care of and conversation with the healers, leaving Tony to catch up with him.

"Dr. Stark, It is a pleasure to see you in person again!" Shuri beamed, openly grinning now that the official formalities were done. "I am looking forward to amazing you with the wonders of Wakanda's tech."

Tony smirked at her. "I look forward to being amazed. But first, ..." he turned to T'Challa's Pepper - he'd not yet heard her name - and held out his hand, a small shimmering sphere in the palm. "This is for you."

She looked at him dubiously and he just held her eyes, a cocky grin on his face, and said nothing. The staring contest lasted several long seconds before she took the sphere and looked at it curiously.

"Squeeze it."

With another dubious, but now slightly amused glance at him she did so, and started in amazement as the sphere flashed blue and elongated into a slender, well-balanced javelin. Her eyes snapped back to his, questions unasked in her gaze.

"I figure you're the reason my Platypus has a chance of truly walking again, so... Thanks." Tony shrugged self-deprecatingly, even as his smile grew wider. "I usually buy _my_ Pepper shoes, but figured you'd appreciate a backup weapon more than some fancy-ass heels. If you squeeze the shaft thrice rapidly, it turns into a rather nice dagger, and striking the pommel twice turns it back into a simple, innocent marble." With a broad wink at the lady, ignoring the grumpy embarrassment on T'Challa's face, Tony turned back to Shuri with a shit-eating grin. "So... tech talk!? I understand you have all sorts of nifty things I'd love to drool over."

Shuri gave him her best unamused glare before laughing. "Show off! Come this way, you impudent Colonizer. We shall see whose gadgets are the best!" Turning to follow the healers she called over her shoulder "Brother mine, you will be one of the judges!"

Tony squawked in mock-indignation "No fair! He's obviously biased! I demand my Rhodey-bear be a judge, too!"

Shuri just laughed again. "Come on, white boy. I will lead you to the rooms you'll share with your _teddy bear_. We can decide what to make and who will judge after you've settled in and discussed the treatment regime with him and the healers."

~~~***~~~

As they disappeared into the building, still bickering amicably, Okoye turned to T'Challa. "Do not ever underestimate that man, and do not _ever_ get on his wrong side again."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Those who wanted truly dark Tony, sorry-not-sorry. T'Challa's not forgiven, just useful.


End file.
